


Et In Arcadia Ego

by chiixil_84



Series: Glory and Doom [1]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Angst, Cannon Divergent, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Spoilers, Trollhunters Spoilers, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiixil_84/pseuds/chiixil_84
Summary: Beyond the death and destruction that Gunmar wished upon the world, all of magick-kind fought tooth-and-nail for a place amongst those settling into the New World after the Battle at Killahead.Farmers though they may not have been in the literal sense of the term, the trolls that settled beneath the human world wanted to cultivate more than the fear and hatred they'd been receiving for centuries: peace.And perhaps trash.





	1. Indecorum

**Author's Note:**

> So I just finished a week watching Troll Hunters on Netflix and I'm in love. I can't even believe this show was as good as it was, and I fell for it lol. I'm here, then, just writing something about the show. Not quite its own thing, I'm just writing to write.
> 
> Based off of the painting with the same name, I thought the Arcadian Shepards and the seemingly unfinished title (and its many possible meanings) paralleled nicely with what the three-part series was trying to convey.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There were three rules to being a troll hunter, and he had broken every single one of them in the span of one night. 

How could he have been so foolish? He was by no means a young troll hunter – and, if he wasn’t being too forward, he’d guess that he would oft be regaled in the glug hall with his name chanted in a thunderous choir amongst its patrons with what he  _has_ accomplished during his campaign – but even Unkar had never been  _this_  unfortunate to break  _all_  of the rules. 

Memories flooded him passively as he remembered being chosen by the amulet centuries before, trekking along the New World with scared, tired trolls falling in line behind him as they sought a new Heartstone. Whispers and visions from lives long-since extinguished had come to Kanjigar as lucid- and day-dreams in those exhausting months, giving him the words and insight to begin his mission as a troll hunter. 

The first rules had been cut down into just a few, but they were the most important to a troll hunter’s survival: 

 _Rule number one: never_ _dawdle_ _beyond the safety of the shadows without a means of escape, especially so close to morning._  

 _Rule number two:_ _never be seen by those that are unable to see and understand your purpose for being._  

 _Rule number three: your life and mission are paramount; the enemy will persist, and a thorough victory can be acquired_ _overmorrow_ _._  

And, as careful as he had been for over  _three and a half centuries_ , it was  _today_  that he decided to fling these rules into the sun as he tied the noose around his own neck. 

Blinkous would never cease in his prattling of the hunter’s need for assistance (or, in the very least, preparing himself better), if he were able to make it out of this situation. 

Pausing, his body surging with adrenaline and agony not-quite fully set in, Kanjigar’s topaz eyes swept over the misty canals as he reassessed his options, trying to focus on his first problem before settling onto how he would find his escape. 

 _Troll Market cannot fall,_  the hunter reminded himself harshly, attempting to ignore the dust itching his eyes, not allowing himself the relief of blinking in the fear that his enemy would take the fraction of a second of respite to end the battle once and for all. 

Kanjigar could not succumb to mortal displeasures, not in a time like this. 

Besides, he’d been through worse. 

Walking in a wide circle beneath the bridge’s shadow, the hunter called out into the morning mist, trying to keep his voice even, “Bular, have you grown as tired as you are boring? I suppose a four-century battle would do that to one as stupid as you, but–” 

A growl rattled from Kanjigar’s left, sending a shiver up the hunter’s spine as if the rumble were a tremor from the earth itself. Silently calling for his sword, the troll swung the tangible sunshine and himself into the enemy, collapsing atop the writhing Bular with the fury of an erupting mountain. 

Heat radiated from the dark prince as they tussled, the roars echoing in the canals barely drowned out by the early morning commute above their heads. Kanjigar could barely see anything farther than Daylight’s reach, the fog enveloping even the monstrous form of his enemy’s general and son, and was somewhat thankful that that meant the humans above would be oblivious once more to their battle. 

 _Speaking of..._  

The hunter looked in Daylight’s reflective surface, looking over his shoulder and at the trees peeking under the bridge’s belly, cursing silently as he saw the sun’s rays poking through the foliage. 

He had to finish this, quickly. 

Bular laughed viciously as he threw his hand up to catch Daylight, wrenching the hunter close enough to knock his head against Kanjigar’s, cracking the tip off of one of the hunter’s horns with the connection. 

Reeling back, that awful chuckling ringing in his ears as his vision blurred, the hunter swung wildly with his sword, praying that Deya’s grace would allow him to deal a blow that would force their fight into a stalemate, at least until the next moonrise. 

“ _How_ _dare you!_ ” 

Though he felt his blade rack against Bular, he knew it did not do much damage, though it surely infuriated the Gumm-Gumm. The hunter jumped backward as his enemy’s claws grazed his chest, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to regain his sight. 

Taking Daylight in both of his hands, shaking his head slightly, Kanjigar snarled, charging at the dark prince, “The Sun fast approaches, Bular! Our fight will end with both of us devastated, and neither of us will gain the upper hand in this foolish war!” 

With another laugh, the dark prince dodged the hunter, bolting for the safety of the bridge. The hunter was unsure if his enemy replied or simply released a growl in response to the taunt, but Kanjigar knew for certain that Bular was toying with him. 

It was here, in this moment, that Kanjigar’s eyes darted to the small, insignificant wall just beneath the bridge’s inner struts, weighing if he could remove the horngazel from his pack, draw the doorway, and enter Troll Market without Bular’s interference. 

It seemed possible...if the hunter were able to knock this Gumm-Gumm off his boastful pedestal long enough to accomplish the seemingly impossible task. 

 _Especially_  if he wasn’t already pushing it with the first rule to wage this battle. 

His only other option seemed to finish the fight and walk away, or to fail. 

With a dissatisfied growl, the hunter followed his enemy beneath the bridge, scaling the stones onto the metal undercarriage with a huff. He readied Daylight in his hands, tightening his grip as he called once more, his fear peaking when he could not find Bular’s monstrous form in the shadows, “Fleeing? What a coward Gunmar has rais—” 

The air rushed from him as Bular kicked Kanjigar from behind, the dark prince collapsing his full weight onto the much smaller hunter. Unable to move, pinned entirely to the rumbling bridge’s reinforcements, Kanjigar roared in anger and panic, swiping back in attempts to get the brute off. 

“Coward, you say?” Bular snarled, his words having a slight purr to them as the acid-like words licked at the hunter’s ear. It would have made Kanjigar sick, if he wasn’t so damned furious. “I always love playing with you,  _troll hunter_.” 

Panting, his form nearly completely still beneath the brute, Kanjigar ran through scenario after scenario in his head on how to get out of  _this_  situation – but nothing,  _nothing_ , said he made it to Troll Market again, the Hero’s Forge, his  _son_ , without Bular close behind. 

This was truly it for him. 

As the dark prince continued his chatter in the hunter’s ear, the almost playful coos nearly sending him into a frenzy, Kanjigar prayed once more that Deya would lend him her eternal grace and mercy. 

 _Not to survive this battleground,_  he promised, tightening his fists at his sides as he prepared for his half-cooked plan.  _Just to survive long enough._  

Snapping his head back, Kanjigar felt the back of his head connect with Bular’s unsuspecting face, half imagining the surprised look on the brute’s face when the hit landed. He felt the Gumm-Gumm’s weight shift, giving the hunter just enough room to rocket from beneath Bular, pumping his limbs as he ran on all fours to the other end of the bridge. 

Turning around to face the enemy, breathing heavily as he called forth Daylight, Kanjigar watched as the dark prince grasped his face, yelling in agony. 

“ _TROLL HUNTER!_ ” Bular charged, his lava eyes glowing brighter and more ferociously than Kanjigar had ever seen them. 

Perhaps he’d taken it too far. 

His gaze flicked back down to the insignificant wall hiding Troll Market, and he steeled himself. 

 _He knew what he had to do._  


	2. Et Peccata Patris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kanjigar wonders why he doesn't feel like a fire orb in a musty forge, or as if he's been senselessly tortured by Bular.

He found himself alone, and cold.

As if looking through a hazy mirror, Kanjigar watched memories pass before him with a heavy feeling settling into his gut that he was merely an observer, strangely disturbed as he watched the events coming to him out of order: first came the birth of his son, then his first meeting with AAARRRGGHH in the Appalachians, then his training in the Hero’s Forge, the fight beside Deya during the Battle at Killahead, watching his mate leave their newborn pup in his hands as she returned to her own tribe, a  _human child_  with an army behind him...

The hunter couldn’t make sense of it.

To make matters worse, he could not move, and he had the  _worst_  itch on his nose.

Actually, in that regard, he had no idea  _where_  he was, nor what happened after his battle with Bular. The last thing he remembered was tumbling from the bridge, but he could’ve  _sworn_  there had been shadows beneath his feet when he fell; the Sun was still hidden by the tree line the last time he had checked, not to mention the thick layer of fog...

Maybe he’d been knocked out cold by the impact, and was resting catatonic in Vendel’s study? Or, perhaps Bular was keeping the hunter in a magical loop to keep him complacent until they reached a Gumm-Gumm stronghold for further torture when the hunter awoke?

Whatever the case may have been, Kanjigar begged it would be over soon. These possibilities weren’t necessarily the  _best_  for him, given the fact that Gumm-Gumms tended to be unapologetically torturous (if not downright  _murderous_ ) when their whims weren’t obliged.

Seeing as how their goal was the amulet (and therefore the one who was bound to it) and he wasn’t exactly  _keen_  with the thought of releasing Gunmar and his horde from the Darklands, it gave Kanjigar very little power over his current state of being.

Unfortunately, if he were to pick the scenario that he thought was  _best_ , he truly believed it would be better if he indeed had been captured by the enemy: a troll hunter in the enemy’s stronghold gave him one final chance to take out as many Gumm-Gumms as possible, if not outright defeat Bular, to allow the fight to continue another day, even if Daylight would no longer be his to command.

 _Unless,_  a small voice whispered in the back of his mind,  _you_ _are_ _already dead._

That made the hunter pause.

If he  _was_  dead, the confusion and haziness he currently felt would suddenly make sense, as well as the disconnect from the memories he was remembering ( _observing? reliving?_ ) and the bitter cold settling into his form.

 _On the other hand_ _,_  he reasoned,  _it would_ ** _not_** _explain away why I am not one with the Void._

Even if his physical remains would be scattered across the earth to never allow him a fully peaceful afterlife, his spirit would have connected with the troll hunters of yore if his fight had ended, allowing him the chance to commune with his brothers and sisters in wait until the next champion was chosen.

However, he felt... stretched.

As if he were looking into an infinite mirror, his reflection became less detailed the farther back it went, drawing back to Kanjigar as if it were another troll entirely. It only furthered his frustration that he could not remember what could have been his last moments, upon the bridge in Arcadia Oaks.

The only thing he could do was wait, and hope that he would regain consciousness soon.

**|0|0|0|**  

As it so happened, the hunter did not have to wait very long for an answer regarding his fate.

New images – dreams? visions? hallucinations? – overcame the endless loop of out-of-order memories, calling him as if in hyperfocus to watch as a human ( _a human!!_ ) approached him.

Kanjigar found himself standing just below the bridge, hardly a stone toss away from Troll Market’s entrance, blinking away the haziness as it threatened to envelop him.

The longer he stared at the human’s face, he noticed it was...morphing.

 _Humans don’t do that,_  he thought, a deep frown settling onto his face.  _The last human I knew that could change form at will was..._

With a harsh shake of his head, the hunter blinked once more, forcing himself to focus  _only_  on the human.

Their face didn’t necessarily matter at this moment – rather, their intent did.

The troll could have  _sworn_  he heard the human looking directly at him, their neck strained as their hands stemmed off the Sun’s glare, but couldn’t understand why this child – because someone so small, so thin, so  _infantile_  – could ever be involved in this war, least of all knowing about it.

The ache from earlier burned in Kanjigar’s gut, and, with a difficult swallow, attempted to suppress the feeling, trying to ask the human why they were here.

 _Does this child not know what lurks within the shadows just beyond the bridge?_  the hunter thought sadly when his words refused to escape his throat, watching as the human seemed to circle around him in observance.  _Do they not realize that there is a war battling in its backyard? That no one is safe while I remain here, stuck, and_ –

“Kanjigar.”

Hearing his name so clear, so crisp, after what felt like an eternity of being alone with his own thoughts felt like an exhalation of breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

He began to respond in kind, if only to try once more to get any words out to this fragile creature, but the burning sensation erupted, burning through his chest and throughout his limbs, almost causing his own head to explode from the pressure.

With another frustrated sigh, Kanjigar rocked back onto his heels, forcing himself to catch his own words before trying to talk yet again.

Whatever this magic was – because, surely, it  _had_  to be something supernatural at this point – it had such a strong hold on the troll hunter that even sunlight did not faze him.

 _Sunlight_.

Though the child remained silent, another child approached, giving the first a look that Kanjigar could not quite understand. The two continued on like this for a moment, sharing looks and hand gestures that only brought further confusion to the hunter, until finally, the second child placed a heavy hand on the taller one’s shoulder, saying something Kanjigar could only barely make out.

_Bular_ _?_

Watching them leave, Kanjigar was at a loss of understanding.  _How could these children know of this monster?_  The hunter refused to believe that  _children_  could be caught up in this war, and be so unafraid of the son of Gunmar to the point of saying his name  _in broad daylight_  and keep their cool demeanor.

Centuries ago, humans dared not whisper the term ‘Gumm-Gumm,’ and that only referred to the nameless, senseless horde that Gunmar controlled!

Yet, these humans –  _children_  – referred to the son of the Heartstone killer as if he were nothing.

A strange feeling overcame him as he questioned their humanity in the first place, immediately throwing the thought away that any of those  _creatures_  could have survived beyond the culling so many ages ago.

Despite the surprise that a human – two, really – knew of the trolls’ existence, it gave the unfortunate edge that Kanjigar now knew his fate.

He hoped that Draal would carry the amulet proudly, and strive toward being the hunter that he knew his son could become.

Kanjigar simply wondered how his wife would react to his untimely death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter, I kept rewriting this and couldn't find any real way of keeping it in line with the timeline that the first season of the show tries to keep to. At the same time, I am trying to figure out some height differences, timeline discrepancies, rock compositions, and names for certain characters as I push forward in the next few chapters, especially regarding those that heavily affected Kanjigar's (and therefore Draal's) past.
> 
> I'm still working out how to keep this going, but I think that focusing on Kanjigar's perspective on things (especially being a dead guy with a ton of regrets and stigmas he probably shouldn't have held onto while being the literal pillar holding up two separate worlds) helps me put more things into focus. Fingers crossed that by next chapter I'll have plenty more to write about other than this poor troll's thoughts, especially given that I don't think Gunmar is the only troll in existence to have pieces of his heartstone mean something important (or, Hell, even HAVING his own heartstone he burst from...).


End file.
